I've Got a Gal Named Sara
by csijenniferlynn
Summary: Grissom is affected by the death of Ashleigh James, a model who unintentionally killed herself through self-mutilation made "necessary" because of her disorder and extreme perfectionism. After closing the case, he glances at Sara when he comments about beauty, and realizes he needs her to know she's beautiful. He has to make it to his otolaryngology appointment first, though.
Author's Note: I've been re-watching CSI from the Pilot on and just finished watching the season 2 finale, The Hunger Artist. I've been toying with an idea for a long fic, but for now am settling on this little one-shot set after this episode. For those who need refreshing, the team spends this episode investigating the death of a model, Ashleigh James, who, it turns out, killed herself through self-mutilation due to her eating and psychotic disorders. Grissom is also losing his hearing and is diagnosed with Otosclerosis.

CSIGSRCSI

Grissom headed to the lab after his appointment with his otolaryngologist. She had just confirmed what he'd suspected for some time; he had inherited his mother's Otosclerosis. He would eventually, sooner or later, become deaf. He pondered what this might mean for him and for his career and for Sara as he drove, taking a few unnecessary detours along the way to give himself more time. As he parked, he noticed Sara parking, too, in the spot three spaces to the left of his. He smiled and then shook his head, as though attempting to clear water out of his ear. He needed to get her out of his head.

"Hey, Griss." Sara smiled cheerfully at him as she fell into step beside him for the walk into the building.

"Sara." His greeting was perhaps more curt than it needed to be, but he couldn't help but picture his perfect Sara with self-inflicted gouges in her beautiful face and the image was unsettling, to say the least.

"Something wrong?"

He glanced her way and sighed, seeing the concern for him on her face.

"Sorry, Sara, I…" He had no words. "I am going deaf and know that there's no way you could love an old, emotionally unavailable, AND deaf guy" wouldn't work. "I told some homeless guy on the street two nights ago that 'I've got a gal named Sara' and I wished it were true, but you know I'm too much of a coward for this" wouldn't work either. "Do you want to go to dinner?," while simple, just still didn't seem like it would fit.

He suddenly sputtered out, the image of Ashleigh James' self-mutilated face in mind, "Sara, you do know you're beautiful, right?"

Sara stopped. Gil stopped. She turned to face him. "What?" She was so confused. She'd been offering her heart to this man for years and while she knew, knew with every fiber of her being, that his heart belonged to her, it seemed he'd never allow himself to be a "cradle robber" or to go against lab policy by having a relationship with her. Such a funny term, "having a relationship." They had a relationship already, didn't they?

Sara was pulled from her confused reflections by the sensation caused by Gil grabbing her arms just below the shoulders, rather more firmly than he usually touched her. She looked at him.

"You are. Ashleigh James, she died trying to make herself perfect, to make herself even. She was a perfectionist. You're a perfectionist. You might not think you're perfect. You are. You are perfect already. Do you understand that?" The intensity of his gaze on her face was more startling than the continued pressure Grissom was placing on her arms.

She was stunned. Grissom seemed to realize he was holding onto Sara and suddenly released her from his grasp. Sara was still struggling to respond. The two continued staring at each other, completely failing to observe the world around them.

"Hey guys, I see you're sneaking in just before clock-in, too. Walking in with the boss man makes it less likely he'll yell at me for being late, huh?" Greg sauntered over and playfully punched Sara in the shoulder as he winked at her.

Simultaneously filled with gladness that Greg had saved her from responding to Grissom and regret that Greg had prevented her from responding to Grissom, Sara swallowed her emotions, winked back at Greg, and answered, "Exactly. Grissom can hardly say I'm late for assignments as long as I step into the break room one step ahead of him."

The three walked into the lab together. Greg detoured to DNA and Sara and Gil continued in awkward silence to the break room. They both snuck several furtive glances at each other, but the walk to the break room wasn't quite long enough for either of them to have built up enough courage to speak.

Grissom handed out assignments. He sent Catherine and Sara out to a B&E, figuring Sara was least likely to share what he had accidentally (on purpose) just said to her with Catherine. Nick and Warrick went out together to one of the casinos to process a DB- wealthy high-rollers who seemed to have keeled over from natural causes often keeled over for other, more sinister reasons. He told the team he'd be in the lab catching up on months of paperwork. No one questioned that, though Sara did give him one of those looks as she left; how could she read him so well?

Grissom successfully avoided seeing anyone for more than 3 minutes at a time all night until the end of shift.

Catherine popped in first. "Go home, Gil. No one needs to stare at paperwork for more than nine hours, even if it is three months overdue."

"Soon, Catherine. See you later."

Nick and Warrick popped in together. "Hey, Griss, we closed our case and we're heading out. Want to grab breakfast at the diner?"

"No thanks, guys, you go on."

He waited. Ten minutes and no Sara. Twenty minutes and no Sara. Thirty minutes and no Sara. Day shift had all arrived. He was giving up hope that she was going to stop in. Just as he had decided he may as well stack his files back into a pile and head home, his "gal named Sara" finally popped her head into his office.

Actually, she quietly strode in, closing the door behind her. As she turned to face him, Gil was already watching her intently and noted her resolved, determined body posture and expression.

She spoke, quietly, but firmly. "You said I'm beautiful. You said I'm perfect."

"You are."

"What if I don't believe it?"

"I'll make you."

"How?" The challenge was so clear, even though her voice was so soft.

"I don't know, but I will."

"Prove it." Sara turned and walked out of his office.

"I will."


End file.
